


Birds vs. Fish

by okayokayigive



Category: The Finder (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 02:42:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/999902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okayokayigive/pseuds/okayokayigive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo Knox is the wisdom, patience, and glue that holds the crew of the Ends of the Earth together. When a heart attack claims his life, their hearts and lives - and Walter's mind - fracture. With Leo gone, can anything put them back together again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birds vs. Fish

**Author's Note:**

> _The Finder_ was cancelled before Michael Clarke Duncan died...but what if it hadn't been? This plot bunny started [here](http://okayokayigive.tumblr.com/post/32195358283/wafflesinthetardis-okayokayigive) and grew from there. My apologies to the [October 25, 2010 episode](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8POzaFW5qHM) of _Ask Rhod Gilbert_ \- I _may_ have borrowed some banter, though I refrained from having Walter say "Cockerels crow whenever they feel like it!", much to Rylie's dismay. This story hits the "Role Reversal" square for my Trope Bingo card.
> 
> HUGE thanks to [Rylie](http://aspieat221b.tumblr.com/) for reading this through (and possibly being the only Finder fan other than me left on this big blue marble.)

\--

"Who is this?"

"It's Isabel. You called me, Walter. Anyway, aren't you still mad at me for refusing to tell you where your mother's been relocated to?"

"Yeah, look, fine. Whatever. Listen, Leo's been acting stranger than his usual strange, disappearing for hours at a time in the middle of the day. Yesterday he even forgot to put out the honor jar. Can you, I don't know, put a tail on him or something? You know, do some US Marshal stuff?"

"Walter. Okay, first of all, have you learned _nothing_? I'm lucky I still have a job - no thanks to you, by the way. I'm not going to tail someone just because you're paranoid. And second - have you thought about just _asking_ Leo what's going on?"

"This might surprise you, but I _did_."

"And?"

"He's cagey. Evasive. Tells me not to worry."

Isabel glanced down at her phone as a short beep signaled an incoming call on the line. "Look, Walter, that's Leo on the other line. I'll talk to him, see what I can find out for you, okay?"

Tapping her headset, Isabel switched over to the incoming call.

"Ms. Zambada? My name is Dr. Sotolongo. I'm afraid I have some news."

\--------

_Six months earlier..._

Walter absentmindedly rubbed his wrists as they drove down the highway, fingers buffing out the memory of too-tight handcuffs. "So, where to now? Time to get Isabel her job back?"

"Already done. She never lost her job - Agent Gibson didn't have the authority to fire her. Isabel was temporarily suspended, and after a brief review of the facts surrounding your mother's case, I was able to help her supervisors see reason."

"So...you let me sit in jail for three months, but you fixed Isabel up in a day?"

"Your situation was more complicated, Walter. You lied to the US Marshal's office, interfered with the Witness Protection Program, and killed three men."

"They tried to shoot me!"

"You snapped someone's neck, Walter. It's difficult to plead self-defense."

"So where are we off to, anyway?"

Leo sighed at the change of subject, but let it go. "New job for you. I need you to find Willa - without setting the Family on her trail."

He pulled into the dingy truck stop and cut the engine. "According to Timo, this is where her trail went cold. I'm not sure I believe him, but it's all I have."

"So, what - you want me to find her and bring her back to the Ends of the Earth?"

"No. I just want you to find her. No contact. I just need to know where she is, and that she's safe."

***

Four days later, Walter walked into the bar with a cut on his face, a broken arm, a missing shoe...and an address.

"Do I want to know?"

"Probably not. But I found her!" He missed - or ignored - Leo's wide eyes and shaking head. "She's a redhead, going by the name Camilla, waiting tables at _Joe's Stone Crab_ in Miami. Room twelve, this motel."

Shadrack slunk out of the corner shadows wearing a smirk. "How sweet of you boys to find my dearly-missed niece. Remind me to send you a fruit basket. After the wedding, of course."

Leo slumped as Shad grabbed the address out of Walter's hand and oozed out the door.

"Walter. The purpose of this exercise was to _not_ let the Family know where Willa is."

"Duh. You think I'd say any of that out loud? Shadrack's got ears everywhere. Wouldn't be surprised if he had us bugged. So come on. Strip and meet me in the walk-in."

"What?"

"You heard me." He gestured in the direction of the kitchen and stepped off with a whistle.

***

"So are you going to tell me why I'm standing in my undergarments in a chilly metal box, Walter?"

"Bugs. I told you. They're likely to be on our clothes if they're anywhere. Well, or in our hair - but I checked mine, and you have none. So. Clothes."

"And _why_ are we in a refrigerator?"

"Impossible to access without going behind the bar and through the kitchen, so less likely to be bugged. Thick walls and white noise from the compressor prevent us from being overheard. Plus, I saw it on TV once."

Walter leaned forward and whispered a string of numbers into Leo's ear.

"What's that?"

His impatient hand gesture and  rolled eyes indicated it should be obvious. "The first sixteen digits are the GPS coordinates for Willa's apartment. The last twenty are her phone numbers - home and work, respectively. Looks like she's done well for herself: cushy office job, wears her hair - which is brown, by the way - up in a little bun, glasses, suits, heels, the whole nine yards. Did some excellent resume forgery, clearly. Going by the name Catherine Knox."

Leo grinned. "Knox? Really? And she's okay?"

" Yeah, Leo. She's okay." He patted his friend on the back. "Now, can we get out of here? My junk is starting to turn blue."

\--------

Isabel watched with undisguised concern as Walter nursed his drink, responding zombie-like to handshakes and condolences. He hadn't said a word since they'd watched Leo's body being lowered into the ground. When he slipped behind the bar and into the kitchen, she excused herself from the group and followed.

"Walter? Why are you taking off your clothes? You don't think we're going to...you know, in the kitchen, at Leo's wake, do you? 'Cause I'm really not in the mood for that right now."

"What? No. No. I need to make a phone call."

She rolled her eyes as he disappeared into the walk-in. "Right. Good to see nothing's changed."

**

"Orsino Publishing, Catherine speaking. How may I help you?"

"Willa. It's Walter. Don't hang up. I'm sorry to break your cover, but there's something you need to know."

1,200 miles away, Catherine Knox fell to her knees and cried.

**

It's by sheer chance that Isabel sees him pulling on a t-shirt over his goggles as he straddles his motorcycle - so she pulls away from yet another of Leo's many friends without a word. She reaches his side just as he's buckling his helmet.

"Walter - where are you going?"

"Need to find something important."

"Now?!"

"Yep. You know how it is when the brainworm strikes. Hang on to this for me, okay?"

He tossed her his phone as the bike roared to life.

No one saw Walter Sherman again for fifteen years.

\--------

"This is what they call a watershed moment, kid. No one can make this call but you. I know how hard it is. I was there. I made my choice. A hard one. It's time for you to make yours."

The young girl in the chair rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Can I go?"

"Yeah. You can go. Just think about what I said, okay?"

Willa sighed as her words echoed in the suddenly empty room. Sera's probation officer thought she was a lost cause, and maybe he was right. But, Willa thought, there was a time when Miss Farrel thought the same thing about her.

"Leo never gave up on me, Sera. I'm not giving up on you."

Her fingers massaged her temples, soothing away the mild headache that always crept up on her by the end of the day. "Right," she declared to absolutely no one. "Time to call it a day."

**

There are some things that stick with you throughout your life, no matter where you go or who you become. Willa Monday's power of observation were one of those things. Equal parts instinct, Family training, and street smarts, she knew in an instant when something was different, when something was about to go askew. As she turned the corner into an alley she'd walked down a thousand times before, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle to attention, and the telltale flutter low in her gut that said things were about to go down.

She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath - and was more than ready when a hand reached out from the shadows to grab her elbow. She shifted quickly to detach and disable her assailant - and froze.

"Lady. Lost anything? I can find it. Anything at all. Money, cats, boyfriends, jewelry, luck...anything you've ever lost. Bottle of gin and a kiss on the lips and I'll find anything at all."

They were cloudy with drink and mental chaos, but Willa would know those eyes anywhere. " _Walter?_!"

He turned and teetered away, babbling to himself and to no one in particular. "Hm. Walter. I found a Walter once. I might have one over here somewhere." He leaned into a nearby dumpster, pawing through the debris. "Wilson, watermarks, walleye, altar, rock of Gibraltar...nope. No Walter."

He turned and stumbled toward her. "Tell me about this Walter. I'll find your Walter. I can find anything."

She reached out, holding him at arm's length to steady him as he continued to ramble about finder's fees and words starting with W. "Walter. It's me, Willa. I used to work for Leo at the Ends of the Earth. Do you remember?"

Walter tore away from her suddenly and curled into himself, whimpering like a small child and collapsing into a tiny ball on the rough concrete. Willa could tell he was mumbling something amidst his cries, but couldn't tell what until she crouched down next to him and lowered her ear to his mouth.

"Couldn't find couldn't find couldn't find couldn't find couldn't find couldn't find couldn't find couldn't find couldn't find couldn't find couldn't find couldn't find couldn't find couldn't find couldn't find couldn't find couldn't find couldn't find couldn't find..."

Tears welling in her eyes, Willa inhaled a jagged, broken breath. On the day he disappeared, the day of Leo's funeral, Walter had told Isabel he'd gone to find something important.

They never thought he might be looking for _Leo_.

"C'mon, Walter." She tugged him up by his elbow. "Let's get you somewhere less smelly."

**

"No, I get it. I do. I just you coming here now would be too big of a shock to his system, Izzy."

While Isabel argued on the other end of the phone line, Willa poked her head around the corner, checking in on her guest. Freshly showered and wrapped in her robe, Walter sat curled up in the corner of her sofa, eyes unfocused and head lolling to the side."

"Isabel! I'm not some sixteen-year-old thief anymore, okay? I'm a trained social worker. I need you to trust my judgment here, at least for a little while. We don't know where he's been or what he's been through in the last fifteen years. This is going to be touch and go for a bit, okay? Just do me a favor and call the police, file whatever paperwork needs to be filed. Call Langston, too. He'll want to know that his brother's alive. I'll keep you updated, I promise."

Willa disconnected the call, grabbed the cup of tea she'd set to steep on the counter, and padded into the living room.

"Walter?" He didn't respond, but she sat across from him anyway, hoping for even a small response.

Thirty-five minutes of gentle questions and prodding later, Walter remained quiet and unfocused - and Willa was at her wit's end.

"How do I find you, Walter? Help me find you."

Out of the corner of her eye, Willa spotted a small doll made from a toilet paper tube - a gift from one of her young clients...and it gave her an idea.

**

Every sponge, tuft of yarn, mismatched sock, cardboard tube, and tissue box she could find were spread across her living room floor in various configurations, along with three dolls (two borrowed from the girls next door), a bag of pretzels, a box of graham crackers, and a tub of icing. It was time for a story - Walter Sherman style.

"When we last left our story," she began, shifting a blonde toilet paper tube doll behind the ottoman and bringing it out brunette, "I was in hiding, working at a publishing house."

"It was good for a while," the doll "sat" behind her sponge desk before scurrying back behind the ottoman, "but eventually I got worried that the Family would pick up my trail." Blonde once more, the doll emerged from hiding and began to travel around the room.

"I took off, spent a few years getting into some deep shit. I did things I'm not proud of, Walter. I'm not going to lie. I did some really terrible things." She paused her story, taking a deep breath before looking his way, expecting judgment, scorn, anger, or disappointment - but got no response.

"I never went back to the Family, though. Of all the things I did, that was the one thing I just couldn't do. For Leo, in his memory, for everything he did for me, I could never go back."

"Anyway!" She moved the blonde doll to a tissue box at the edge of the room. "By the time I hit my early 20s, I was ready to do something with my life. Isabel and I had stayed in touch - she called the last number dialed on your phone the day you disappeared, and got me, much to our mutual surprise - and she helped me get my act together and get into school."

"Now I work with the kids everyone's given up on. The troubled ones, the 'unfixable' ones, the ones with no remorse and no hope. I become the one person that believes in them. I don't try to fix them - I try to help them understand, to help them see different options. Give them a different way to view the world. Because that's what you and Isabel and Leo - especially Leo - did for me."

She set the blonde doll down and grabbed the brunette, placing her at a similar tissue box on the opposite side of the room. "Isabel finished law school, of course - and she _did_ make it to Washington." The doll shuffled over to a vertical white box in the center of the room. "She hasn't quite made Attorney General yet, but she sits on the Superior Court in DC while she bides her time for the next presidential election."

Willa reached for the cookies and icing, and steadied the last tissue box between her knees. "The Ends of the Earth is empty, of course. Has been since the day you disappeared." Her voice softened as she glued sweet shutters to the cardboard. "Probably would have been demolished 100 times over by now - hurricanes and all - but Isabel makes sure that someone checks in and boards it up every season. We thought you'd want things intact, want a home to come back to."

She set the bar stand-in on the sofa next to his knee and stood, taking the pretzels with her.

"We never stopped looking, you know. Everywhere we went, we asked questions." A pretzel on the college box. "For the first few years we hung flyers." A pretzel on the law school box. "We used every resource at our disposal." Another, and another, and another. "But I never thought a random walk through a random alley would lead me to you."

She hung a pretzel on the tip of his nose, hoping for a smile - or even a twitch or a sneeze.

Nothing.

"So much has changed, Walter. So much. But there are things that haven't changed. We still love you. We still need you." She took a deep breath, hoping she wasn't pushing too hard. "And Leo is still dead. You were there, Walter. You saw his body go into the ground. There's nothing to find. He's gone."

"It's okay to be angry. It's okay to be hurt. It's okay to be sad, or broken, or numb, or relieved. But you need to accept it. You need to move on."

She looked down, pulling herself together and making a hard decision. This wasn't the time to pull punches.

"Look, you should know," she said, reaching behind her to retrieve something from a shelf. "After Leo...I mean, you weren't around, so I met up with Isabel at the Ends of the Earth, and we cleaned up. Boarded up. Packed up. Leo kept...he wrote things down, okay? And I started thinking about all the things he did for me, all the things he did for you, the ways he helped so many people. So I stole it. Always a Gypsy, I guess. I stole his words, and I made them into a book. Just a small run, self-published, something I could pass along to the troubled ones who needed it the most. And right now, Walter? That's you."

Willa knelt in front of him, praying to powers she didn't believe in to see some kind of spark in his eyes.

Still nothing.

She pressed the worn and tattered book into his hand.

"I know I can't help you like Leo could. But for his sake, I'm gonna try. Hang onto this for me, Walter."

That night, as Willa slept, Walter began to read.

**

The solid thunk of something landing on her stomach tore Willa from her sleep.

"Pages seventeen through sixty-eight are total bullshit. Leo never would have said that. Those diaries you found were clearly fakes."

Willa blinked - at the brightness of the light above her head, at the book on her comforter, at the clock that read 3:12 a.m., and at the raving madman - still clad in her robe - pacing at the end of her bed.

"I mean, really," he continued, "life is designed to make your brain explode? He'd never say that."

"Actually," Willa ventured cautiously, "that's not from a diary. He said that to me. You were there - it was when we were looking for that voodoo doll. But...I can show you the diaries, if you want--"

Walter's voice suddenly increased in pitch and volume, but in a way that was somehow more lucid than earlier that day. "I don't care about the damn diaries, Willa. I don't remember him saying that. I don't remember him saying half of this stuff. I don't remember the legal codes he'd rattle off when I was about to do something stupid. I don't remember the look he got in his eyes when he thought about Ellie."

"I didn't leave to find Leo," he yelled, voice breaking. "I left to find my memories. And I can't-- They're not--"

Walter crumpled into a ball at the foot of her bed, crying and whimpering like he'd done in the alley. Cradling him to her with one hand, Willa dialed her phone with the other.

"Isabel? Book us on the first flight to Key West, and meet us at the airport. We're losing him."

\--------

Travel with a quiet, compliant companion was easy, if eerie. Willa made use of the in-flight wifi to fill Isabel in, sharing as many details as she was comfortable recording in an email.

Isabel met them on the tarmac, worry turning to shock when Walter didn't acknowledge her presence.

"I'm not sure I believed how far gone he was. I'm sorry." Willa nodded, hugging her old friend in greeting. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"He's looking for his memories, Isabel. I can't think of a place he's more likely to find them than at the Ends of the Earth."

**

After seating Walter at the end of the bar, Willa shifted behind it, hoping for a beverage - or even that damned honor jar - to shake his memories loose.

Isabel leaned back from opening the last shutter and smiled. "I've got to hand it to Tommy and his crew - they've done a good job keeping her together over the years. What do you think, Walter?"

Walter, of course, said nothing.

"I hate seeing him like this."

"I know. Me too. Especially after seeing him so lucid last night, no matter how brief it was. It's like I know he's in there somewhere. Our Walter is in there, with all of his wacky puzzle-solving skills and manual computers and Holmesian deductions." She brushed his hair back from his forehead. "But how do you find the finder?"

Isabel glanced around the room, eyes settling on the dusty old chalkboard.

"Hey, Willa - wanna play a game?"

She grabbed the chalk, thought for a moment, and wrote: "Birds vs. Fish".

Willa chuckled. "Oh, that's easy. Fish. Definitely fish."

"But what about birds? I mean, birds supply us with food - I mean, more people eat chicken than fish, right? And farms have to have roosters."

"What?"

"Roosters. They get the farmers up in the morning, get the day started right!?"

"That's a myth, actually. Roosters don't crow at dawn. They just...crow. Whenever they feel like it."

"Huh. Well, but wouldn't we be overrun with insects and mice and stuff without birds?"

"Maybe. But--"

"They put fish scales in lipstick."

Two heads whipped around.

"What? They do. It's weird. There are fish pedicures, too. You'd probably enjoy that, Isabel. I don't know *what* you'd enjoy, Willa. All grown-up and suited up."

Isabel and Willa glanced from Walter to each other and back again, unsure  what to say or do, afraid of shattering the moment.

"Leo would have said birds, definitely. Some crap about beautiful birdsong in the morning. But I'm gonna have to go with fish. They're tasty, they're plentiful, and way back when, they were a huge part of the economy for this tiny little strip of islands. So in a way, we're all here because of the fish. Besides, if you were to get rid of the birds, everything would be fine. But if the fish disappeared, the ecosystem in the oceans would collapse. Fish are more important."

The two women just stared.

"What? I watched a lot of British quiz shows while I was gone. I know stuff."

Isabel shook her head. "Wow. I think my brain might explode. So, pretty much like normal, then, huh?"

Walter smiled. "Willa. Say that thing that dude wrote down."

With a sad smile, Willa grabbed a bar rag, polishing small circles into the worn wood. "This is life. Life is designed to make your brain explode. That's why we have brains. Leo Knox."


End file.
